


The loneliest place that you'll ever know

by TheWordsInMyHead



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25860973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWordsInMyHead/pseuds/TheWordsInMyHead
Summary: "Maybe it's a little pathetic," he smiles to himself sadly at the joke, "but you told me that talking to me kept you sane. I'm counting on you to return the favor.”Or: Trapped on a deserted planet, alone and desperate, Bellamy calls out to Clarke.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 81





	The loneliest place that you'll ever know

**Author's Note:**

> Almost as soon as we saw the promo for this week’s episode, my friends and I were all like Bellamy!! Bellamy alone on a planet! Bellamy talking to someone!! Omg radio calls! What if he’s calling Clarke? _Insert heart eye emojis._ As I’m sure many of you were. 
> 
> It took me a week, but here is the radio call parallel that we all deserve and are undoubtedly not going to get. I hope it helps fill some of your desperate need for Bellarke, it certainly helped me.

  
**Day 1**

He hits the ground with a hard thump, the earth beneath his face cold and unforgiving. His breath catches in his throat from the impact, but then it doesn’t seem to come back. He fights with his body, willing it to work the way he knows that it’s supposed to. It seems hopeless though. Black dots swim across his vision; the ringing in his ears increases in pitch.

After everything, the years without quite enough food, the dangers of the ground, the literal end of the world, twice, and this is where it ends for him.

The aches in his body, so constant now that he barely even notices them anymore, start to fade. The ringing turns into a peaceful hum, the black spots disappear into a black background and that’s when he sees her.

Octavia standing in front of him, looking back at him with confidence radiating off her so different from how she used to look at him. Underneath it though, he can see the same fear he used to right before he’d put her under the floor. Her mouth would set into a determined line, but her eyes would always give her away.

He needs to get up. She was scared and despite everything that they have gone through, he needs to be there to protect her from whatever it. While she may not be his responsibility anymore, she’s still his sister and he’s still her big brother. Nothing is ever going to change that.

With a newfound determination, he forces a gasp of air into his lungs. It's icy and sharp, painful in every sense, but it is also a relief. His head starts to clear and with every subsequent breath, his memory of how he got here loses its hazy quality.

She was trying to protect him before the explosion went off, to convince the people holding her captive to let him go. She’d looked at him with a sadness in her eyes and promised to cooperate if they let him go back to Sanctum and they had been about to. She had information that they wanted, information about... Clarke.

_Clarke._

Every muscle within him tenses. Octavia wasn’t just trying to save him; she was sending him back with a warning. Clarke is in danger.  
Forcing himself in a sitting position, Bellamy looks around. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have known that the chill in the air and the rocks beneath him meant that he wasn’t in Sanctum, but as it is, it’s not until he looks out at a sheet of white that the information lands.

A wave of horror washes over him. The landscape spread around him is cold, harsh, and unforgivable, nothing close to the deceivingly pleasant trees and beach of Sanctum. He pushes himself onto his feet and the dizziness returns along with the darkness. He falls back to the ground, the wind whipping violently across his face.

The fog threatens to consume him again and this time he fears there’s no pushing it back. He vows though that it will only be temporary. He will get off this hellish planet. He will find Clarke and get back to Octavia. He won’t fail either of them again.

  
**Day 11**

Eleven days later and his determination is no less strong, but his hopefulness is. It's taken him nearly a week to admit that there’s nothing.

No food or at least food in any form he’s used to. There are creatures, bugs, although not ones that he recognizes, that he’s taken to eating and he hasn’t died of starvation yet so they must have some nutritional value.

No warmth. The wind and the snow are worse than any of the horror stories he heard about winter on Earth. He can see some hint of something that he thinks must be the sun when everything around him isn’t just a constant sheet of white, but whatever it is doesn’t seem to be effective in the slightest.

No people. No advanced life at all that he can find. He’s all alone with no plan. He’s searched, climbed up cliffs, exploded every cave he could find and there’s no one. He doesn’t know what happened to the people around him when he went through. If they landed somewhere else here, on a different planet and he’s not sure it matters anyway. They are most likely dead. He’s surprised he isn’t dead.

Running a hand through his hair, he tries to push thoughts like that away. It’s hard though. With each passing day, he seems to lose more of his control over them. The sore muscles, the hunger pains and the pure exhaustion, he can all handle, but the fear of losing his mind, of losing himself, is a different beast.

A desperate thought, one that’s lingered with him for the last few days, enters his head and this time he doesn’t have the care to push it away. He spots a rock on the ground, oddly square-shaped, and holds it up to his mouth.

"Maybe it's a little pathetic," he smiles to himself sadly at the joke, "but you told me that talking to me kept you sane. I'm counting on you to return the favor.”

He drops the rock back down to the ground with a sigh, feeling more ridiculous than he ever imagined possible. The rock lands with a clatter and then stares back at him tauntingly for several long minutes. The wind howls loudly outside the cave he’s managed to find, the only noise until eventually, the silence becomes too much and he picks it up again, “I don’t know what to do.”

Leaning back against the cold stone, he lets his eyes fall shut. “How did you do it, Clarke? It’s only been six days and already I feel hopeless. Like it doesn’t matter. Like I should just close my eyes and let the coldness take me.”

“I know that’s not the answer,” he reassures her quickly, imagining the horror on her face at his confession, “and I’m not going to stop. I’ll keep searching for a way back to you all until I’m old and gray and have eaten every goddamn bug on this planet, but it’s just— it’s so hard.”

A weight seems to be magically lifted off him as soon as he admits it, “Every single hour of every day is hard and I feel like I should be handling it so much better than I am. I don’t know how long you were alone before you found Madi, I’ll add it to the list of conversations that we were foolish to think we had time to have, but I know for sure it was longer than 11 days.”

“If you were beside me now you’d probably tell me it was different, that you knew there was a timeline on how you would be alone; either we would come back down from space or they would get out of the bunker because that’s what you do, but Clarke, it wasn’t nothing. Doing this isn’t simple or easy.”

“It takes strength, the kind of strength I’m not sure I have on my own so I’m going to need your help okay.” He tucks the stone carefully into his pocket and then pushes himself off the ground. He’s not going to find a way off this place sitting in a cave, feeling sorry for himself.

Later that night, when the silence starts to feel all-consuming again, he pulls out the rock. He can do this. With her by his side, he can do this.

  
**Day 37**

“So then I got over the cliff and yep, you guessed it, another snow-covered ridge,” he lets out a laugh, ignoring the hysterical twinge to it. Logically, he knows that this planet isn’t just one sheet of white. After the first week, he realized that it would save him a whole lot of time, not to mention help keep his sanity intact, to create a map. A month in and he’s got a decent portion of it filled in. Or a least some of it.

He lets out a sigh, momentarily glad that she can’t actually hear him. He’s a bit of a disaster. More than a bit. If she saw him now, he’s positive she’d get that worry line in between her eyes and he doesn’t want that for her. Part of him hopes that she doesn’t even know what happened to him. The rest of him, the part of him that unequivocally doesn’t deserve her, hopes that she’s searching for him and will appear in a green flash of light any second now to take him home.

“I really never thought I’d miss the Ring,” he says into the rock, “and really I don’t. I’ll take whatever hell this is with the knowledge that you are all out there together, at least somewhat okay, over spending another second thinking you're dead, but it was simpler than. Not easier, not even a bit, but it was simpler.”

“Here I spend every single day trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing and more than half my time doubting that what I’m doing is right. On the Ring, I knew what to do. You told me what to do. Trust my heart, but use my head. Survive for myself and all the people who didn’t.”

Looking down at the rock, he rubs his thumb against the worn surface, “I tried to do that, to be the person you wanted me to be, but I’m not sure I lived up to it. I shut down for a while, lost the whole heart aspect of the head and the heart. I couldn’t face it because I left you to die down there all alone.”

“Why does it seem like we are always leaving each other?” he asks quietly, but the questions echo loudly off the cave walls, “You leave me, I leave you, over and over again. Will the pattern break? Why can’t we ever seem to stay together?”

He clears his throat, pressing the rock into his chest like it will stop her from being able to hear the emotion in his voice. “It’s so fucking selfish, but I wish you were here with me now. At least back on the Ring, it made sense. I should have wanted you there; it would have been better for you to be there. Here though, there isn’t anything for you.”

“Nothing other than me anyway,” he adds on after a moment, slightly hesitantly. It's not like she can actually hear him. “I am here though, and maybe if you were here too, we’d be able to figure this out. There was a way in, there has to be a way out.”

“You know, I spent a while on the Ring wishing that I hadn’t listened to my head, that I had stayed behind to wait for you. Even when I thought that you had died, it still seemed like a missed opportunity. You shouldn’t have had to burn alone. I got over it eventually. I had to. Afterward, though, when I knew differently, I hated myself more for giving up on you.”

“And yet, I did it again. If I had just waited a couple days, maybe you would have come with me. Maybe you’d be here now and then even if it took us a while to find the answer, to get out of here, it wouldn’t be so bad. We’d be cold and hungry probably, but we’d have each other. We’d finally have time,” he continues, imagining an alternate reality where that is what happened.

Running his hand through his hair, he shakes his head and comes back to his senses, “God, what am I thinking? Don’t listen to me. I don’t want you here. I want you to be laughing beside Madi right where you belong, not slowly freeze to death beside me.”

He lets out a groan, knocking his head back against the stone, “I’m sorry, apparently, I’m in a dark mood tonight... I just miss you. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. I’ll be better tomorrow. Goodnight, Clarke.”

  
**Day 74**

“You know, I’ve never really been alone,” he starts off the conversation, settling more comfortably with his back against the tree.

He pauses for a second, more out of habit than anything, and then continues, “I only just realized this morning that that is why the silence is probably so unnerving. I’ve just never dealt with it before. Octavia was born before I was old enough to stay by myself and then was always there. On the ground, there was always someone with me, a delinquent, a guard member. And then in space the second time, none of them ever left me alone for long.”

“They meant well,” he tells her, looking up at where he knows the stars should be, “They saw that I was a mess and don’t want me to wallow on my own, but it didn’t really make much difference. It was hard whether one of them was sitting next to me or not.”

“See that’s the thing, I’ve never been alone, but I am starting to think that I’ve always been lonely. I had Octavia, but she was never mine to have. She was my responsibility, same with the delinquents and with everyone else in space. They were mine to protect, not mine to have. It was always the same.”

A smile slides onto his face, the first one in he doesn’t know how long, “Except for you.”

“I remember this type Octavia got really sick, I got it too, same with my Mom, and she’s been sick before, but this time it was different. There was nothing I could do to help her. We were alone, I was alone, and all I could do was hold on to her and wait.”

“For a while, I thought that was just going to be my life, but then you showed up and suddenly, I didn’t have to do things alone anymore. I didn’t have to make every hard choice and I didn’t have any alone. You sat on the other side of Atom with me without a second of hesitation and offered to carry that burden with me.”

Thinking back, he realizes that at that moment everything changed for him. It took him longer to admit it, but when she did that he started to recognize that he didn’t have to do everything alone. Thar he didn’t have to be alone.

Of course, he still was in a lot of cases. They have a horrible habit of losing each other, but it was never quite the same. Even here, it’s still not the same.

“And that’s the strange thing,” he says, readjusting his grip on the stone, “I’m more alone here than I have ever been, but I think I’m also less lonely because even though you aren’t here beside me, I still feel like you’re with me.”

He lets that settle over him, breathing in the cold night air and not feeling the sting. She’s here, he’s not alone. Brushing his thumb across the smooth surface, he whispers, “Thank you for being here.”

  
**Day 98**

For once the landscape surrounding him is lit up by the sun. The snow is sparkling in the light, making the cliffs appear less ominous. Even the wind against his face seems a little less bitter. He normally doesn’t talk to Clarke when he’s moving during the day. He tried at the start and then quickly realized that this world was far too hazardous for multitasking.

Today it seems safe though so he pulls out the well-worn rock from his pocket while he continues on his trek, “I’ve been thinking about the Ark today, about Octavia and our life back then. It feels like so long ago like a different lifetime. Everything felt hard back then, and it was, I was constantly afraid that she’d be found or worrying what her life would be like if she wasn’t, but between it all, there were a lot of great moments.”

“We never had a lot, never enough really so almost anything extra went to necessities, but there was one time— you get a small bonus when you make it through your first year of cadet training like some kind of thank you for doing all the work no one else wants to. I assumed that it would go to food, it would give us a few extra weeks where we didn’t have to worry, but my Mom told me to get something I wanted with it instead.”

“I wouldn’t have done it, I was far too practical for that, but then I saw this book and I couldn’t resist. Octavia was getting to the point by then that she was angrier at having to stay locked up than she was fearful of the outside world and I just knew that it would make her smile. We had books of course, on the tablets, but this one had paper pages and a colorful cover. I can’t count the number of times we read it together.”

“Did you know there were a bunch of books on the Ring? And a chessboard. We didn’t play by the right rules I don’t think because no one actually knew them, but it was fun. Emori used to beat Murphy all the time and it’s sulk for days after.”

He pauses, enjoying the feel of the warm sun on his neck, “I don’t think I ever appreciated little moments like those enough when they happened. Octavia’s cheerful squeals of delight, Emori’s triumphant grin. The way I used to be able to just look at you and know what you were thinking.”

“Talking to people and having them answer back,” he adds on with a laugh.

“I miss the sound of your laugh,” he tells her softly, “I can remember your voice pretty well and I think I’ve got a good idea of what you’d probably be saying back to me, but I can’t get the sound of your laugh quite right in my head. Maybe I didn’t hear it enough or maybe I was just never paying enough attention. When I get back to you, we have to try and laugh more okay?”

He looks around trying to enjoy the day for what it is, a good one.

  
**Day 120**

“I’m sorry it’s been a few days,” he apologizes, grabbing onto his rock with a shaky hand, “I uh cut myself on a rock a while ago and I guess it got infected… I’m fine now! And my hand is still firmly attached, but I guess I was out of it with a fever.”

He trails off uncertainly until a startling realization hits him, “Actually, I totally could have been talking to you. I have vague memories of holding the rock, but I don’t actually remember… if I said anything just discount it as delusions okay.”

A wave of exhaustion hits him and he nearly drops the rock, but he manages to hold on. It’s been too long since he’s talked to her. He misses it. “I know you’re going to want a detailed explanation of what happened and I promise I will give it to you. Later though. For now, I’m too tired. Just know that I’m doing better.”

“I missed talking to you,” he says softly and then pauses, unsure of what else to say. Normally, he tells her about his day, but right now there’s nothing all that positive to tell her. Plus, he picked up this rock looking for comfort and reliving the last couple of days is definitely not going to bring him that.

“You know, when Octavia used to get sick I’d tell her stories,” he shares with Clarke, “I used to do it all the time, but when she was sick, I’d just keep going until she’d fall asleep… how about a story?”

“I don’t think you know this one, but even if you do, it’s such a classic that you can never hear it too many times. It starts with the Iliad though; you need to know a little bit of background. The main character Odysseus left his wife and son to go fight in the Trojan war. They win the war in the Iliad, and then he starts the long voyage home.”

“His journey home, that’s the Odyssey. It took him 10 years; the Gods were against him. It seemed like everyone was against him, but it didn’t matter. He was determined to make it home to the woman he loved, to his family. That’s half of the story. The other half is his wife Penelope and their son back at home waiting for him, positive despite the years that he will come back to them.”

He pauses, closing his eyes against the dizziness that threatens to consume him, “I always liked the story, probably more than Octavia ever did, but there was something so inspiring about their loyalty. Odysseus' determination matched with Penelope’s never wavering faith.

“I will come back to you, Clarke. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, but somehow, I will figure it out. Or maybe you’ll come and find me,” he adds on with a light chuckle. His hand falls away from his mouth, but he manages to keep the stone in his grasp, “That would be fitting. Okay, you can have the determination and I’ll have the faith.”

**Day 163**

“I built a snowman today just like in all those 21st-century stories. He doesn’t look exactly right; it’s harder to get the snow into perfect spheres than they make it seem and I didn’t have anything to make a top hat, but I stuck some branches in for arms and made a face out of tiny rocks. He kind of looks like he’s scowling. Honestly, he reminds me of Murphy a bit.”

He pauses in his description to look at his creation illuminated by the moonlight, “And no, I haven’t started talking to him, I’m not that face gone yet. Five months and I still only talk to one inanimate object, that’s not too bad, right?”

“It all started because I decided if I was going to stay here for a while I needed to decorate, make this place into more of a home, you know. The only problem is there is nothing here. Literally nothing. I’ve got a few scrawny branches, a million different rocks, and more snow than I could ever want. Thus, Boreas. Yes, I named him. No, I’m still not talking to him.”

“But no you don’t want to hear about my failures as a decorator. How about another story? I was thinking about this one while I rolled Boreas’ body so if it’s bad you can blame him for distracting me.”

He takes a deep breath and then begins his tale, “The sun was just starting to fall beneath the horizon when Odysseus walked through the gate into the yard. It felt like it had been ages since he last set foot on this pathway, but in reality, it had only been mere hours. After everything he and Penelope had been through, he never ventures far from home.”

“Childish shrieks of joy greet him the moment he opens the door and then within seconds he has two small bodies pressed against his legs. Reaching down, he scoops both of them up into his arms and continues on his way to the kitchen. He doesn’t leave often, not if he can help it, but their people still count on them and today it was his turn to go.”

“Depositing the two squirming bodies back onto the ground, he leans over and greets his wife with a kiss. Their oldest daughter, sitting at the table across from them, lets out a groan in dismay. When he moves over to say hello to her though, he can see a small smile on her face. She can still remember a time when he was gone and he knows that she cherishes each moment where they are all together.”

“Dinner passes by quickly and easily. The food is simple, but it’s warm and good. He’s with his family and that’s all that really matters. After that, he takes the younger two and they settle into bed, ready to listen to a story. Before he’s even through the opening lines, his oldest is perched onto the end of the bed, and then by the midpoint, the last remaining member of their family is sliding into her side of the bed beside them. They fall asleep like that, happy, warm, and most importantly, together.”

“It sounds boring right?” he asks her, “that’s what Octavia definitely would have told me. She would have demanded to know where the battles were, but it’s my story and tired of the fighting, of the death and destruction. I just want a story where people who love each other get to be together and be happy… and I think that you do too. I hope you do too.”

**Day 186**

Turning the rock over in his hand, Bellamy debates whether he should use his call up to Clarke already. Back at the start, when he spent his days exploring the planet, he really only had time to talk to her at night. Now though, he has more than enough time. His map is finished and his home base is about as comfortable as he can possibly make it.

The temptation to call her and never stop talking is strong. Some days, he’ll think it has only been a few minutes since he picked up the radio, but then he’ll look around and it will be dark. Once, he realized that he had just started talking to her with the rock still in his pocket. After that, he decided he needed to create some structure for himself.

One call a day. That’s all he got. He made that resolution on day 174 and he’s already broken it more times than he cares to count. He’s dependent on the calls, on her, in a way that would probably frighten him if he was back in the real world. As it is, she’s really the only comfort he gets.

He thumbs the corner of the rock, no longer sharp, and brings it up to his mouth. She won’t hold this against him, “Hi, I know it’s earlier than usual but, we’ll, there’s not much to do around here.”

“I’m sure whatever you are doing is far more interesting,” he says, walking out of his cave and towards the edge of the cliff, “How’s the house building going? Did Madi end up getting that swing she was asking for?”

From this spot, the snowy landscape is clearly visible in each direction. He pauses to take a deep breath of the crisp air, looking out in wonder at the rolling hills and jagged mountains, “Good, I’m glad. A swing seems like the kind of thing every kid should have. What about you? Did you get the sky light? I know, I know, it’s extra work, but it’s going to be your home forever. It’s worth it.”

“Yes, it is and you clearly did want it. I can’t even count the number of times you’ve mentioned it. You deserve it. Think about how beautiful it will be at night; you’ll be able to see the stars from your bed at night.” He blinks his eyes against the glare of the sun, “Come on—”

He cuts off suddenly when the world around him comes back into focus and more importantly, the bright green light glowing just down the hill. He blinks again, not sure whether to actually believe that it’s there, but it doesn’t disappear. If anything, it grows stronger.

His heart beat slams against his chest. He feels a droplet or blood slide down his hand from where his grip on the rock has caused it to bite into his skin, but it doesn’t matter. The light is still there. A grin spreads across his bearded face. _She did it. He knew she’d do it._ “Never mind. I see you.”


End file.
